


Untitled

by OnceUponaFangirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:06:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5314274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponaFangirl/pseuds/OnceUponaFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma can't stop checking Killian's pulse. Post season 5 timeline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> I was challenged to write a fic in 5 minutes. This took longer than that.

She had done similar after he got his heart back - a subtle palm over his chest until her nerves calmed and she allowed herself to breathe. At night, she pressed an ear against his swan tattoo, listening for the light thumping like it was her only salvation. But she was cautious about it, usually waiting for slumber to claim him before allowing the mental one, two, three, four, five. . .to take hold of her mind. Now, however, she didn’t try to hide the worry.

Her fingers slid from his cheek to graze his jaw and find the pulse in neck, index and middle pressing into the soft flesh as she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead into his. Killian’s breath was warm when he spoke, her hand rising with his adam's apple at his words. “Emma, love-”

“Please, Killian. I just - I need this right now.” Tears burned behind her eyelids with her whispered plea. (It has absolutely nothing to do with the slow, gentle caress of her neck, just below her hairline, or his silent compliance and the bruising kiss that follows when her tears build and spill under shut lashes, the vibration of her body making her lose count. Nope.)

She checks his wrist over grilled cheese at Granny’s rather than interlocking their fingers. He looks down at the two polished nails that rest below his thumb, but unlike she would have before, she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she follows his gaze with the downward turn of her lips and their food is forgotten as the memories float to their conscience. Darkness that wraps around metal like a snake and consumes, blood caked around his neck that won’t stop spewing, blood that screams magic be damned as it stains the soft pink of a rose and drips to the floor of the diner they now occupy.

She stands up abruptly and hauls him out the doors with her, making a beeline for the docks and collapsing in his arms. She’s not sure if it’s sea that eventually calms her or his hand on the small of her back, tugging her as close as he possibly can.

She rests her head under his chin in the king size bed they share, legs tangled together and arm wrapped around his stomach with her ear pressed against the beating organ. She doesn't sleep until the rise and fall of his chest syncs with her own. It’s the first thing she looks for when nightmares rouse her awake, sheets damp from the fear it evoked. He kisses sweet nothings into her neck, the round of her cheek, the curve of her nose and sets his own hand over her heart, counting the beats and vowing his love when it steadies.

 **  
**He doesn’t dare say he’s a survivor - not after the three times she has watched him die. It feels more mocking than comforting. Instead he waits, leans his neck to the side so she can place her the pads of her fingers there and let the soft thump lull her back to sleep. The scar line that lies there is a raised red reminder of all they’ve overcome even when she stops checking.


End file.
